Wands and Wings: A Collection of Poetry
by Lisa Von Cooper
Summary: This is the place where I'll be submitting poems about "The Fairly OddParents", focusing on a variety of characters. Some will be romantic. Some will be about families. Some might even be a little scary. Rated T just to be safe.
1. Fairy Tale Romance

**Fairy Tale Romance**

Once upon a time, there was

A princess kind and fair,

With eyes the colour of candyfloss

And silky swirly hair.

So many girls grew fond of her,

And many boys grew fonder,

But no man was quite good enough

For young angelic Wanda.

…

Once upon a time, there was

A pauper short and dumb.

Spots here, spots there, spots everywhere –

Spots even on his thumb.

The poor lad didn't look like much,

And brains he was without;

They all thought him a fool, and then

His speech removed all doubt.

His mama was a _witch_ , as well –

Her schemes caused much distress.

(But against her son's own idiocy,

She was left powerless!)

Their house was rocked with scandal when

His papa left long ago;

Thus, few girls chose to flock around

That smelly dolt, Cosmo.

…

Once upon the time, the pauper

Fell in love – and oh!

If you could see the way she looked,

You would not tease him so.

When it came to appearance,

They were hardly on a par:

Her eyes would often twinkle

Like a bright but distant star.

Her smile lit up the darkest rooms,

She carried herself with grace –

Why would this darling look upon

 _His_ pimple-besmirched face?

Her hair was like a cinnamon swirl

And rather hypnotising.

He wished that he knew how to bake her

Treats most appetising.

He wished he could write her a song

That wasn't dull or sappy.

He wished he could do everything

That made her truly happy.

He rarely ate and barely slept,

Seeing Wanda and no other.

There was one tiny problem, though:

He still lived with his mother.

…

Once upon a time, there was

A clingy wicked witch.

She hatched a plan she just knew would

Go off without a hitch.

For years, her boy had been the only

Family she'd ever known.

Her husband fled when Cosmo was born –

The man had no backbone.

She'd raised her son without much help

Since he was just a baby.

She gave him all the love she had

And he returned it – maybe.

But then that princess came along

And started to confuse him.

He shunned his mother for a wench –

She didn't want to lose him.

How _dare_ this siren steal her child!

He was _hers_ and hers alone!

She would not let this foxy lass

Remove her from her throne!

…

Once upon a time, there was

A clawed and hairy beast,

Caught in a trap when it had tried

To catch its next big feast.

The wicked witch happened upon

This creature in the night.

She took it home and got to work

(For it was quite a sight!)

She set about with eye of newt

And threw it in a potion,

Her goal to make an object that

Was worthy of devotion.

And then the growling writhing thing

Existed no more, since

The witch had turned the beast into

A rather handsome prince.

…

Once upon a time, the princess

Fell in love – and oh!

She longed to hug the muscly chest

Of great Juandissimo.

She glanced not at that pauper, for

She had been swept away

By compliments and chocolate and

An overflowing bouquet.

He promised he would take her to

His palace made of gold,

Where he could give her so much more –

That is what she was told.

Completely unaware that Cosmo's

Pauper heart was breaking,

She ran off with Prince Charming,

With anticipation quaking.

…

Once upon a time, the prince

Did pamper his princess.

He promised her the easy life

Without ado or stress.

His home was filled with clothes and books

And ornate, fancy things.

The view was of a garden where

A girl could spread her wings.

Each day, he found a new way to

Showed off his palace grand.

He offered a more detailed tour

And took her slender hand.

But suddenly, the clock struck twelve.

The spell at once was lifted.

The prince leapt back and clutched his head.

His body shook and shifted.

His shaggy hair concealed the snarl

When fangs sprung from his mouth.

He saw pale Wanda, smelt her blood,

And then it all went south.

He lunged and scratched, he lost control,

He ripped apart her face.

Her beauty had been torn to shreds

And agony took its place.

She fled from that huge palace where

She had trustingly slept.

She tore her dress and wrung her hands

And hid her face and wept.

The pauper found her in the woods

And his mind was filled with fears.

His instinct was to rush to her

And wipe away her tears.

The happy princess was no more –

 _This_ girl was caked in blood.

He poked around the open wounds

And tried to stem the flood.

But sparks shot from his fingertips;

They made him more alert.

The ghastly gashes disappeared

And so did all the hurt.

He kissed her scars and watched them fade.

He let his feelings slip.

She clung to him, and she would not

Loosen her desperate grip.

They stayed this way for many hours.

Though he could not do much,

He nursed the princess back to health

With every tender touch.

…

Once upon a time, the princess

Fell in love for real,

For what the pauper lacked in brains,

He made up for with zeal.

On every single date, he found

A new way to alarm her,

But once the storm had passed, he knew

Exactly how to calm her.

They formed a perfect pair; what one

Needed, the other gave.

He thanked her for her patience,

And she told him he was brave.

The couple certainly turned heads,

And many a girl did ponder

The topsy-turvy fairy tale

Of Cosmo and of Wanda.

About that cad Juandissimo

Nobody knew the truth.

When asked, the princess shrugged and said

He'd been a naughty youth.

The beast and witch both disappeared –

The princess didn't mind.

The green-haired pauper made her whole.

Their hearts were intertwined.

The wedding day that followed was

A time for smiles and laughter;

As far as I'm aware, they lived

Happily ever after.


	2. Timmy and Vicky

**Wands and Wings – A Collection of Poems**

 **Timmy and Vicky**

For weeks he's been training at the gym,

Working until he collapses from the ache in each limb.

He needs to run. She's coming for him.

He has learnt every synonym

For terror. He can't play, can't even skim

A stone across the water without seizure by the whim

That she's coming for him.

He could offer a desperate hymn,

He could finally learn how to swim,

He could run away, take on an unrecognisable pseudonym –

It's too late for that. The light starts to dim.

It's her shadow. She's coming for him.

He is filled to the brim

With fear, not vigour and vim,

As a ten-year-old should be. She's coming for him.

Now his chances of survival are slim.

However you see it, the future is grim.

…

You're dead, Timmy.

…

In comes the dreaded chick,

Hair like a firebrick.

She was fast. Did she fly here on a broomstick?

His parents depart for a company picnic,

Abandoning their sidekick.

The teenager smirks and casually applies her lipstick.

The boy's forehead is slick

With sweat. He's so pale he looks anaemic.

If she's kind, she'll be quick.

Instead, for ages, there's no sound but the tick

Of the clock. The air is thick

With anticipation. She beckons him with a click,

No words necessary. He comes. He's going to be sick.

She's going to unpick

Him, mercilessly, like complex arithmetic.

Sure enough, he's floored by a kick.

With a tiny little flick

Of a switch, the flamethrower roars, ready to lick

The skin off his trembling body. She's truly a lunatic.

…

Fear the name of Vicky.


	3. Changing Shape

**Changing Shape**

 **(Inspired by "The Gland Plan")**

It began long ago as a small operation.

Each magical man took his place at the station.

It would be (for one of the men) the end

And (for the other) the start of their damnation.

The one with green hair could be so well-behaved;

The one with blue skin was a little more depraved.

The latter took on an incredible burden

So the former – who had been quite ill – could be saved.

…

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.

…

His wife was relieved, until he started to change.

She tried to ignore it, but found it so strange.

He knew exactly which words would hurt her the most;

Such knowledge had previously been out of his range.

A snide remark here, a nasty joke there –

In no time at all, they polluted the air.

When he called her a nag, she would sigh and deflate.

Could he not see her pain? Did he not even care?

…

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.

…

 _He no longer pursued all that bad luck with zeal,_

 _For the quest to spread chaos had lost its appeal._

 _But he had no concern for their health in the past –_

 _To feel something like guilt would be rather surreal._

 _One Friday the 13_ _th_ _, he heard a sharp yelp_

 _Coming from an injured, panicky whelp._

 _He abandoned his black cats and rescued the boy._

 _He couldn't believe it – he'd just tried to help!_

…

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.

…

"You tell me I'm stupid and think it's not sticking –

I'm tired of your bad attitude and nit-picking!"

The boy said to calm down and held him in place;

He slipped out of his grasp, punching and kicking.

His wife tried to talk, but he gave her a smack,

Knocked over the fishbowl, prepared for attack.

He tore off his shirt, and his loved ones recoiled –

Where the stitches had been, there was now only black.

…

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.

…

 _The green one was raving, the house was alight;_

 _The blue one fought bravely to put these things right._

 _Somehow, in the struggle, his chest was exposed –_

 _Where the stitches had been, there was now only white._

 _So upwards and outwards the magic did spray._

 _No other creature dared to enter the fray._

 _A zap in the neck sent the green one to sleep._

 _Had the King of Misfortune just saved the day?_

…

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.

…

Perhaps he should leave – would it be for the best?

After meeting his wife, well, his life had been blessed,

But he's coming so close to destroying that love –

So he sits and waits for the results of the test.

He is locked in a cell, and the light here is dim.

His counterpart watches from outside. He's grim.

Or concerned? Had he felt that emotion before?

This is not – no, it never was – just about him.

…

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.

…

 _Having had some more time to think it all through,_

 _He is thoroughly convinced that it must be true._

 _When the moron and genius exchanged gland for gland,_

 _They exchanged a small part of their precious souls, too._

 _One was naked, ashamed and exposed to the light_

 _And cured of his messy inherited blight,_

 _While the other, corrupted, was bound and dragged down_

 _Into the abyss of the murky night._

…

They both have a scar

That is shaped like a star,

But neither man knows

Who they really are.


	4. Smoky and Dusty?

**Smoky and Dusty?**

 **(An Idea that Came to Me on Observing the Similarities Between Cosmo, Wanda, Timmy and Vicky)**

Wanda?

Hey, Wanda!

Wanda?

 _What?_

I've been thinking…

 _I knew there'd be a first time for everything._

About Vicky – HEY!

 _What about Vicky?_

 _Make it quick,_

 _It's the middle of the night._

Could she be Smoky?

 _What?_

COULD SHE BE SMOKY?

 _I heard you the first time!_

Then why did you say, "What?"

And they say I'm dumb!

 _And they're right._

 _Look, Cosmo,_

 _Are you seriously asking_

 _If Vicky could be Smoky?_

Yep.

 _Our Smoky?_

Yep.

 _The kind,_

 _Sweet,_

 _Happy,_

 _Adorable,_

 _Irreplaceable Smoky?_

Yep.

 _You think that's the same person_

 _As mean,_

 _Lazy,_

 _Short-tempered,_

 _Sadistic,_

 _Icky Vicky?_

Yep.

 _Well, I don't think she is._

 _What even gave you that idea_

 _In the first place?_

She has my hair shape.

At the front.

Kind of pointy and shaggy.

 _So does Timmy._

 _It means nothing._

And your eyes.

 _Huh?_

Her eyes are pink,

Like yours.

They're not as pretty on her face

As they are on yours,

Obviously,

But still,

They're the same colour.

 _Not really._

 _Have you seen them?_

 _They're a darker shade of pink than mine._

They're not.

 _They are._

They're not.

 _They are._

They're not, not, not!

Why aren't you listening to me?

Why can't you see

What's right in front of you?

 _It just –_

 _It just wouldn't make sense._

 _Our Smoky would never have turned out so…_

Icky?

 _Yes! Exactly!_

No-one's born evil, Wanda.

Except the anti-fairies.

Maybe,

When they took Smoky away from us,

They put her with a family

That made her unhappy,

And that's why she's so mean now.

 _Why would they do that?_

I don't know!

I'm just saying

You should keep an open mind.

Or maybe something went wrong

When they made her a changeling.

When they tore out her wings –

 _Cosmo, don't._

 _I don't want to think about that._

 _I don't want to talk about any of this._

Sorry.

 _I miss her._

Me, too.

Hey,

What you said earlier…

 _About what?_

About Timmy's hair being like mine…

 _You've got to be kidding me._

I'm not.

I think he could be Dusty.

 _Cosmo, you're being ridiculous._

No, I'm not.

Think about it.

There's a six-year age gap,

The older one's a girl,

The younger one's a boy,

They both have hair like mine,

She has eyes like yours…

It's all coming together!

Vicky and Timmy

Are Smoky and Dusty!

They're our kids!

Think about it!

 _No, Cosmo._

 _You think about this._

 _Smoky was an accident._

But she was a great accident –

 _We broke the rules_

 _When we didn't tell Jorgen_

 _And you brought her into the world._

But it was worth it –

 _We were shutting her away_

 _In a dark, secret compartment._

 _She could never have a normal childhood,_

 _Not when she was put in a box_

 _And never allowed to see the light of day._

 _We were fools to think we could make it work._

But when you love someone, you don't give up –

 _And then after six years of this madness,_

 _Dusty was coming along_

 _And the secret was getting too big to keep._

 _Someone was bound to notice_

 _The sudden surge of new magic in the atmosphere._

But was it really that important –?

 _We were always going to get caught,_

 _With or without you_

 _Screaming through Dusty's birth_

 _And making them find the annexe._

But I said I was sorry –

 _Jorgen was very clear:_

 _We can never see them again._

 _We'll never know where they are_

 _Or what they're doing._

 _We shouldn't try looking._

 _We shouldn't dig up all that pain_

 _For a potentially fruitless search._

But don't you want to know –?

 _Besides, we have Poof now._

 _We have a child of our own,_

 _And this time,_

 _We don't have to hide him away._

 _We can love him here and now,_

 _In public._

But didn't you love them first –?

 _Poof is what we need to focus on._

 _Him, and making Timmy happy,_

 _Being good godparents to him._

 _We need to draw a line under the past_

 _And move on._

But –

 _Cosmo._

 _Listen to me._

 _Vicky isn't Smoky._

 _Timmy isn't Dusty._

 _And you need to put these ideas out of your head._

But what if they are our kids?

What if we could pick up where we left off?

Wouldn't you want to give it a try?

Wouldn't you want our family to be together again?

Don't you care about Smoky and Dusty?

Were those tears and nightmares just a lie?

Or are you just scared to –?

 _OH, SHUT UP AND GO BACK TO SLEEP!_

Okay.

Sure.

Maybe you're right.

Maybe we should let it go.

Yeah, you're right.

You're always right,

And I'm always wrong.

I'm sorry.

Goodnight, Wanda.

 _Goodnight, Cosmo._


End file.
